The Blog

Let’s face the facts: A Mexican restaurant without a good margarita is like a day without sunshine. So when Patricia Unterman, the city’s very respected Examiner restaurant critic, came into Tacolicious and ended what was otherwise a very positive review with this …

“Your biggest investment will be in booze, and here I do have a quibble. Both the house margarita ($9) and the nonalcoholic agua frescas ($4) need work.”

… we were worried.

I emailed Unterman to ask her what exactly she found needed work when it comes to our margarita and she said she wasn’t a fan of the orange liqueur we were using. At Hayes Street Grill, the restaurant she co-owns, she uses Gran Torres Orange Liqueur and said that it’s the best, if a bit expensive, option.

Not surprisingly, our margarita is our best-selling drink meaning this critique wasn’t something to take lightly. So we set out to do a blind taste test or nine margaritas made identically—except each with a different orange liqueur (barring one that was made with agave syrup instead, Tommy’s style). We couldn’t find Grand Torres in time for the taste test unfortunately, but our selection of orange liqueurs was broad, including:

• Patron Citronge
• Combier
• Grand Marnier
• Hiram Walker
• Clement Creole Shrubb
• Bols
• Curacao Curacao
• Agave nectar (not an orange liqueur but we wanted to try it out as an option)
• Cointreau

The winning margarita would be our new recipe!

I invited a smattering of tasters of all sorts of expertise: Liza Shaw, chef of A16 (and our neighbor); Eric Rubin (co-owner of Tres Agaves tequila) and Rebecca Chapa (somm  and wine and spirits educator). Also tasting: me, Joe and Telmo, our chef.

As we sipped and pondered deep thoughts, discussions about whether or not you should make a cocktail so that it dilutes properly with ice came up. Or whether or not a margarita should let the tequila speak first. My big aha was that margaritas are so ingrained in our taste memories (they epitomize the taste of good times, beaches, warm weather) that they’re really difficult to taste completely objectively.

To be absolutely honest, as the tasting wore on, I started to realize that the differences were incredibly subtle, barring a couple that seemed markedly different. But I kept this to myself, should I come across like a fraud. Luckily Liza said it for me, “This is harder than it looks!”

My notes for each margarita were one-worders: (“good”, “boozy”) while Liza, sitting next to me, was writing madly, eloquent descriptions like: “Slightly floral, slightly bitter, nice balance of sweetness and acid, not very pronounced orange flavor.” So much for my food writing career.

Nevertheless, there was one I loved and kept returning to taste again. There was also one that truly sucked. The rest? I could have almost swapped one for another. The thing with tastings is all your focus is on the drink or the food, whereas in everyday life, you’re far more distracted. If I’d been chatting with friends about my day and eating dinner while drinking these margaritas, their slightly different flavor profiles would have been a non-issue. (Not to mention I probably would have been drunk.)

But this was in the name of sobering science. Finally, we got to the last one. We numbered them in order: one being the best, nine being the worst. Then Rebecca tallied them up. One orange liqueur came out clearly on top. In fact three of us (Liza, Rebecca and myself) had voted it our top pick.

As the bartender went through each different liqueur, we waited with bated breath to see which one we’d chosen as the outstanding winner. Drum roll: It was Bols Triple Sec! The thrifty choice of orange liqueur we’ve been using at Tacolicious all along. I actually couldn’t believe it. I was stunned. Liza’s notes for Bols said: “Sweeter orange blossom flavor. Not so acidic. Nice balance.” Mine said “Might be my fav.”

Ironically enough, Telmo and Joe had choice “E” (the Bols) margarita as one of their least favorites.

Conclusion? We’re back to our original marg. And you can’t judge an orange liqueur by its price.

Epilogue: Patricia Unterman will be pleased to know that on top of our house margarita, we’re also going to start serving a margarita made with nothing but tequila, lime juice and agave syrup—which is Eric Rubin’s favorite way to make a margarita. Let the agave shine through.

Emma: Proof that even brides can get with our "fingers not forks" motto

In May, a tale of love and tacos unfolded. In other words, our first full-on, 180 person wedding gig.

Emma Boyes (now, Emma Campion)—the associate creative director of food and drink at Weldon Owen Publishing in San Francisco (think  Williams Sonoma cookbooks and more) hired us for her wedding to Pat Campion, a property developer. I was particularly nervous about this because I knew that Emma was connected in the food industry and the wedding would be populated with food stylists, photographers and more. I mentioned this perhaps more times than Kelly, who organized the whole thing, would have liked.

But all went off without a hitch. Except for the hitch itself, if you know what I mean. I interviewed Emma briefly to see how it went. She also sent us some of the beautiful photos shot by Melanie Duerkopp.

A taco wedding? Great idea, but not traditional.
Being in the food business, I have learnt the difference between fancy food and good food. We wanted it to be casual, fun, the food simple but delicious, with plenty of chilled wine and buckets of icy, cold Tecates. All this without breaking the bank or getting sucked into the “wedding industry.” Honestly, after meeting with a couple of wedding caterers, we were so disillusioned about the whole affair, their food was so fussy—it just wasn’t for us.

And why Tacolicious (barring the obvious, awesome reasons)?
We enjoy  the street food in San Francisco—everything the Ferry Building on Thursdays has to offer; tacos on Harrison; Naomi’s pizza oven outside of Homestead. But finding the right street vendor proved hard, considering we were feeding 180 and wanting some sort of passed food as well as the main meal.

How did the reception go?
We kicked off the afternoon with Prosecco, beer and passed appetizers. The Tacolicious tuna tostadas have been raved about ever since, as well as the delicious gazpacho shooters you guys made. The sit-down was as family style as you can get for 180 people: long tables, salsa chips, limes and guacamole along all tables. I had no problem tucking into at least four tacos, white dress and all. There was no way I was going to miss out. Carnitas is my favorite, but they are all pretty damn good.

Champagne is overrated.

Inspirational taco memories?
My favorite taco memory is of a girl surf trip I took to Saladita. We would get up and surf from dawn, then come back and crack a beer and cook up some breakfast tacos, then sleep in the hammocks until we would do it all over again.

Tips for nervous brides?
Don’t let the wedding industry suck you in. Go with your own instincts of what works for you and your partner and remember that your friends and family are there to celebrate with you. So if you want tacos, paper plates and biodegradable forks, go for it and feel good about it.

Emma + Pat = Tacos

El Moro's churros con chocolate (photo by Tyler Gourley)

Everyone knows that a properly-made churro is a thing of beauty: The way I see it, it’s all about ratio. It has to be mostly crispy on the outside (the ribbed, stick shape is the perfect vehicle for this), a little bit creamy on the inside, overall a tad chewy, hot (but not tongue-burning) and dusted with just enough crunchy sugar and cinnamon to hit the mark somewhere between pleasurably sweet and wincingly so.

I’m also very aware of how bad a cold churro can be: A leaden, chewy guilt-trip. If you’re going to indulge, it better be good.

I’m excited to report that Telmo has been working hard on our churros recipe. In fact, just a couple weeks ago we invested in a new fryer, specifically to be used only to make churros. (Put it this way: Churros fried in the same oil that we use for our fish=gross).

Churros are made with what is essentially a pate à choux—the same dough used to make everything from eclairs to crullers to beignets—and pressed directly into hot oil through a pastry bag with a star tip. Telmo’s most recent inspiration has been the churros from the famous Churrería El Moro in Mexico City where they make some pretty great specimens. I think they’re made even greater by the fact that the servers, who are by no means particularly young, wear old-school, maid-like outfits, complete with white aprons, which would be weird at Tacolicious but really add to the whole flavor when you’re at a 75-year-old restaurant in DF.

Tacolicious's churros con chocolate (photo by me)

Our churros hit the right marks: They’re chewy, crispy, creamy, just the right amount sugary. Truth be told, I prefer them with cafe con leche, but we’re serving them traditionally with a rich, thick hot chocolate that turns them from just delicious into decadent. Come and get them while they’re hot.

Friday morning, we opened our doors for the first World Cup game which started at 7 am. It was amazing to see the restaurant packed to standing room only, windows wide open, people even sitting outside and peering in.

Telmo was working his butt off, serving up the scrambled egg and bacon tacos and an amazing birria. Juanito was cooking in his Mexico jersey. The tequila shots were flowing long before 8 am. The first margarita orders came in at 8:15. But my favorite morning bender drink has to be a cafe corregido, otherwise known as Mexican Coffee. Not only is it dangerously delicious, but it turns out to be a great way to start a work day.

Do try this at home:
To a glass, add equal parts cold espresso, tequila and Kahlua. Top with foamed milk.

This should be called the Jump Start.

Tacolicious will be open for every US or Mexico game for the remaining World Cup. Our opening hours are:

Friday 6/18 6:30 am USA v. Slovenia
Tuesday 6/22 6:30 am Mexico v. Uruguay
Wednesday 6/23 6:30 am USA v. Algeria